


The Christmas Wish

by wynnebat



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Death Fix, Christmas, First Kiss, Getting Together, Grief/Mourning, HP: EWE, M/M, Master of Death Harry Potter, POV Harry Potter, Post-Canon, Sirius Black Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:34:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23233306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wynnebat/pseuds/wynnebat
Summary: Only ten minutes ago, Hermione had asked him what his Christmas wish was. It was just one of those silly questions. She must have expected him to say having a nice sleep-in or no crime on Christmas day.Without even thinking about it, Harry had blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "Sirius."
Relationships: Sirius Black/Harry Potter
Comments: 13
Kudos: 520





	The Christmas Wish

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted by anonymous.

Returning to Grimmauld Place from the Weasleys' annual holiday party, Harry didn't stop at the first floor or the second floor, where he usually spent his time at home. Instead, he made the way up to the third floor to rooms that had barely been used since half the Order had come for the holidays back in Harry's fifth year. Sirius had decked the first through third floors of Grimmauld Place in every decoration known to wizardkind. Traces of those Christmas decorations still remained.

In the second room on the right, Harry reached up to take one of the mistletoe clusters tucked into a curtain rod. He didn’t feel steady despite the even ground. Harry took a seat on the edge of the bed, running his fingers over the dull leaves and dried berries. The leaves threatened to crack even under the gentlest of touches.

Harry recalled Sirius gleefully decorating the house for the holidays during Harry’s fifth year. It had been the most cheerful that Harry had ever seen him. Grimmauld Place had been full to the brim with friends, family, and laughter, and for once all the gloom had been driven away. Perhaps it had all been driven to this very moment, pulled through time to a day that should have been happy.

It was a horrible truth: that Harry wasn't happy, not even in the midst of the holidays and the people he loved.

Only ten minutes ago, Hermione had asked him what his Christmas wish was. It was just one of those silly questions. She must have expected him to say having a nice sleep-in or no crime on Christmas day.

Without even thinking about it, Harry had blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "Sirius."

He'd looked away after, feeling awkward in the face of his own wish. Sirius was five years gone. In the aftermath of everything that had happened, of losing so many people, Harry knew he shouldn't keep mourning a man who died before the war broke out in full. A man with whom he'd spent so little time, all things considered, and who had barely known Harry in return.

And yet Sirius haunted his dreams like no proper ghost would dare, in ways that would no doubt give Hermione even more cause to worry.

The house was so quiet that even from the third floor, Harry heard the sound of the floo.

"Harry?" a voice called. It was Hermione's.

Harry rubbed his face and tried to look better than he felt. He hadn't expected visitors. "Up here!"

Through the room's open door, Harry listened to Hermione's movements all throughout the empty house. It took her a few minutes to find him. When she did, she hugged him wordlessly, then let go to sit on the edge of the bed next to him. "I was worried when I saw you leave the party."

"I'm fine," Harry muttered.

He didn't need to look at Hermione to know her expression was sympathetic. "You're doing an impression of Grimmauld Place's first ghost. You're not fine."

"But I should be," Harry finally said, sounding disgruntled to his own ears. "It's so fucking stupid, this— this—"

"Grief?" Hermione offered.

Harry nodded. The word wasn't right. It didn't encompass all that he felt, but it was the closest thing he had. "How does anyone live with it?"

"One day at a time. Or so Ron tells me." She placed her hand between them, palm up, and Harry took it. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Harry squeezed her hand gently. Even one small point contact felt like it was too much; it was more than he would ever have with Sirius outside of his dreams. "I feel like I've already said everything I had to say about him. I keep talking and it doesn't change. I miss him. I miss him so much, Hermione. It doesn't make any sense."

"As Molly would say..."

"Grief doesn't need to make sense," Harry finished, shaking his head. "Maybe it doesn't need to, but I need it to."

He let go of Hermione's hand to pick up the bundle of mistletoe again. Harry traced the edge of one leaf. The tip broke off under even his careful pressure. It didn't improve Harry's state of mind.

This particular string of mistletoe had been tucked into the curtain as decoration; it had never been one of the ones that had floated around the house to linger over the heads of two people who would either laughingly kiss or shoo it away. It had never been pinned to a doorway, where it would stop people from passing until they kissed or blasted it off. Harry remembered being fifteen and hoping the mistletoe wouldn't find him almost as ardently as he hoped that a cluster of it would wander his way when he was standing next to Sirius.

It never had. Harry assumed that Mrs. Weasley had made Sirius cast an age ward over the mistletoe; it hadn't affected a single one of the kids.

That night, warm from the drinks they'd snuck out and from the hug Sirius had given him before bed, all buoyant and in good spirits, Harry had dreamed of a different end to the night.

In the dream, he and Sirius had been cleaning up the kitchen after everyone had gone to bed. One of the mistletoe bunches had drifted their way. Sirius had laughed, had said something about having thought he'd disabled all his charms, and had kissed him. Harry had woken himself out of the dream out of pure embarrassment. Want, too.

Years later, embarrassment had fallen away, leaving melancholy in its place. The want had stayed. There was no outlet for it, not one that worked. It stewed in the back of Harry's mind until the occasions when it returned in full force.

"You should get back to the party," Harry said, looking Hermione's way. "Thanks for coming, but I need some time."

Five years wasn't enough time. Would a decade work? A lifetime?

"I could stay," Hermione offered, despite probably knowing that Harry wouldn't let her. Not today, when everything felt raw again. "We could do something together. It's been ages since we got up to some trouble. I can show you the charms I've been trying to develop. You can tell me about life in the auror department."

Harry shook his head. "Next time."

"Alright. Next time. I'll hold you to it."

Harry walked her down two rows of stairs and to the floo. He threw floo powder into the fireplace before Hermione could offer to stay again. She smiled at him, huffing, and despite his sadness Harry smiled back. There were some things that you learned about your dearest friends over the years, and for Harry, Hermione, and Ron, it was that they were all stubborn to a fault in different ways.

After Hermione left, Harry lingered in front of the fireplace. He saw nothing in the flames; no new visitors nor visions in the fire. Divination really had been a wash. In his left hand he'd held onto the bundle of mistletoe. It had ripped some more under his grip. The more he tried to hang onto it, the less he had in his hand.

Staring into the fire, Harry said it properly. "My Christmas wish is for you to come back, Sirius."

The words didn't make him feel any better, but maybe there was a little lightness to his heart all the same. Saying things aloud had a sort of magic all of its own.

With a moment's hesitation, Harry threw the mistletoe into the fireplace. The fire engulfed it quickly, crackling with the old leaves and lingering magic. There must have been more magic in the mistletoe than Harry had realized. The fire turned black and roared up. Harry took a few steps away, eyeing it with apprehension and drawing his wand.

Before he could try a fire containment spell, a figure stepped through it.

Harry dropped his wand. He was only lucky that it didn't roll into the fireplace; he didn't have the presence of mind to care about anything except the fact that Sirius Black was standing in front of him. He hadn't aged a moment since Harry had last seen him.

"What— what is this, Harry?" Sirius asked, turning his hands over and touching his own robes as if to confirm that his hands wouldn't pass through. "I haven't been here since the forest, but you didn't use the stone."

Harry was suddenly, instantly worried about the same, that his hands would go through Sirius if he tried to touch him. He stepped closer until they were almost as close as they'd ever been, close enough to hug. The perspective felt wrong until Harry realized he'd grown taller since the last time he'd seen Sirius. Not enough to rival his godfather's height, but almost.

"You look good for a hallucination," Harry said to him. He felt faint. "While you're here, can I—" Harry cupped Sirius's face with one hand. Sirius's skin was warm.

"I'm not a hallucination, Harry," Sirius promised.

Harry didn't argue with him. He couldn't bear to. He kissed Sirius instead, kissing him through the soft sound of surprise and into the passion that lay beyond. Like a proper hallucination, Sirius kissed him back eagerly, bringing Harry closer to him, his hands steady and wanting. Over the course of the kiss, Harry lost track of time, of himself, of everything but Sirius.

Quite unlike a proper hallucination, Sirius was the first to pull away. "Stop, Harry."

Harry tore his hands away faster than was maybe necessary, almost smacking them against Sirius's own limbs, which hadn't moved.

"Not that," Sirius murmured, not moving a step away. "I need to tell you this while I still remember it. It's getting fuzzy the longer I stay. Your parents, they love you very much. All they want is for you to be happy. James says he agrees with Hermione. If anyone's going to mope around Grimmauld Place, it should be me. Lily says to find a new therapist. Dr. Featherstone isn't helping enough."

"Did they hear the part where, um?"

"You love me? Yeah, they heard that part. It's alright, Harry. It's alright. I love you, too."

"Oh," Harry said. He felt shaky with relief, delight, and the strange notion that perhaps Sirius was not a hallucination at all. It was easier to kiss Sirius again that to deal with all of that.

As the kissed, Harry felt something small and hard against his side. Pressed together like this, he could feel the contents of Sirius's robe pockets, and he slipped the object out. The object was hard, small, and spherical, and by the texture Harry knew exactly what it was. Even as he kissed Sirius, his fingers found the lines carved into the object.

Later, when Sirius was exploring the renovations that had been done to Grimmauld Place since he'd left, saying that he'd never seen them at this angle, Harry took a look at the Resurrection Stone. It glittered under the fire's light, whole again. A bargain had been made with someone who rarely lost; Harry didn't understand it, but he could be grateful either way.

Harry pressed a kiss against the stone and placed it back in his pocket.

Sirius found him again, grinning as he said, "The Weasleys' Christmas party is still going strong. What do you think about bringing a plus one?"

Harry shook his head, laughing at the thought. "It would be a madhouse within moments. Let me keep you, just for tonight?"

Sirius's grin turned softer. "You have me, Harry. In this life and the one that comes after. You weren't the only one who couldn't stop hoping."

It may not have been holiday magic at work, but Harry had gotten his Christmas wish. Harry kissed him once more, finding that Sirius didn't crumble under his touch. He was warm and steady, and so very alive.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm also on [Tumblr](https://wynnefic.tumblr.com/). If you're interested in Sirry, there's also a [Discord server](https://leather-and-sex-ficfest.tumblr.com/post/184994735625/join-the-lightningstar-discord-server) for the ship.


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